Seven Days of Sartie Lovin'
by sartietingles
Summary: Join Sam and Artie for the next seven days as we get to see them finally become "that close" in celebration of Sartie Week. Themes include Children, AU, Angst, Sci-Fi, Sexy, Missing Scenes, and Future.
1. Children: Summertime

_**Title**: Summertime  
**Genre**: Friendship/Fluff  
**Word Count**: ~2800  
**Pairing**: Artie/Sam  
**Summary**: Six-year-old Artie Abrams makes friends with Sam Evans on a summer's day and they pinky swear to be best friends for ever.  
__ **Author's Note: **Sartie Week is upon us! This is the first of the seven fics I'll be delivering to you all during these amazing seven days of Sartie. __Also just so you know all of my Sartie fics include bi!Artie and gay!Sam._

_If you want to follow more of the action you can visit "sartieweek" on tumblr and check out some amazing Sartie goodness._

_May the force be with you!_

* * *

It was tradition in the Abrams family to take a road trip down to the beach exactly four days before summer vacation ended. At least, that's what Catherine and Jerry decided when they saw how much fun their boy had had the last two times they went. Young Artie loved the beach - the smell of the air, the feel of the sand between his toes, the thrill you got when you swam just a little further out than you were supposed to. He loved it all.

This year Artie was six and a half - practically grown up and ready to take on this beach like he never had before. This made him extra squirmy when his dad insisted on putting another layer of sunscreen on his back.

"It's fine, Dad, can I go in now?" Artie begged. "Please?"

His dad chuckled fondly. "I'm not taking any risks this year, son - not after I came home with a lobster instead of a boy last time!"

He tickled Artie who cackled then took the sunscreen a little more happily - remembering the painful life of a lobster that he'd led for most of the previous summer.

Finally a few long minutes later, Artie was up and raring to go when,

"Excuse me?" a woman's voice came from behind them.

Artie turned around to see a blonde woman with a matching blond man and child standing with her.

She gestured to the sand between them and another group on the crowded beach. "Is there anyone sitting here?"

Artie's dad smiled and shook his head. "All yours."

The woman thanked him and her husband starting rolling out the beach towels.

The little boy, however, was distracted by something. He marched over to Artie and pointed, demanding, "Is that a Pokemon towel?"

Artie grinned broadly. "Yup!" he said with pride, scooting over to fully reveal the Gengar he'd been standing on.

The blond boy seemed impressed with this choice. "I'm Sam!"

"Sam I am!" Artie echoed with a grin.

A look of total awe crossed Sam's face, as if he'd never made that connection before. "And I don't like green eggs and ham!" he cried joyfully, swearing to introduce himself like that forever more. "Does _your_ name have a rhyme?"

"Only the kids who call me Farty-Artie at school," he admitted, head bowed in embarrassment.

Sam, a sucker for fart jokes, appreciated the quality of the nickname, but didn't laugh because the other boy looked so upset. "Well, I like your towel," he added awkwardly yet kindly, trying desperately to get the sadness out of those eyes.

Artie at once flashed him a grin. "Thanks! Gengar is my favourite."

Sam scoffed. "Not as cool as Blastoise."

Artie opened his mouth to retort, but his mother stopped him, knowing that when her son got on a roll he really couldn't be stopped.

"How about you two boys go for a swim?"

Sam looked up at his parents questioningly, and they nodded with their permission.

"LAST ONE THERE'S A ROTTEN EGG!" Artie wailed, kicking up sand everywhere as he ran, limbs flailing everywhere. Sam followed desperately, not wanting to have to bear the shame of being the rotten egg. They reached the water, burning cold at their ankles, together, bounded over the waves, and dived in.

They surfaced and exchanged a look of total horror, screaming at the icy, numbing cold they'd just dunked themselves into. They cracked up at the looks on each other's faces and for a while jumped around in pain, before getting used to the temperature.

Sam was sweeping the water around with his arms, yelling about making a whirlpool, and Artie tried to join in but he wasn't wearing his glasses so he ended up whacking Sam on the back of the head.

Sam fell back into the water in surprise, and as he re-emerged from the water Artie braced himself for some sort of cruel retaliation. Other kids weren't usually this nice to Artie, whose best friends were ones he found in movies or books or made up himself. No one really wanted to be friends with Smartie-Pants Farty Artie, and he knew it was too good to be true that someone so instantly took a liking to him. But as Sam stood up he just grinned at Artie, narrating in a strange voice. "Artie used flail! It was super effective!"

Artie gaped at him, then laughed widely and went to splash him again, but he'd barely moved when suddenly Sam had launched himself at Artie.

"SAM USED BODY SLAM!"

Artie was knocked underwater, totally bewildered. He floated to the surface and watched Sam chortle at him. "The wild Artie fainted!"

After some time when they could no longer ignore their shivering from the cold sea, they went to make sandcastles on the shore. Artie had an incredibly elaborate castle in mind, including a moat and a long strip of dug out sand to make a dam in front to stop it from getting ruined when the tide came in.

"You're so smart!" Sam gushed as they watched their castle stand as the other castles around them were swallowed up by waves.

"Am not!" Artie said defensively, far too used to being called that in a mocking way.

Sam looked confused. "Are too!" he tried again, smiling widely for good measure, and then laughing at the bashful grin that had now replaced the pout on Artie's face.

After another few moments of admiring their creation, Artie asked the tough question. "So when are we going to jump on it?"

Sam looked appalled. "No! We have to come back tomorrow to see if it's still here!"

Artie agreed, and they paced around the castle again, admiring the fine work they'd both put in.

Then Artie realised something.

"I can't see if it stays here tomorrow! We're going back to Ohio tonight."

"Ohio?" He knew that was a different state, and that meant that Artie lived really far away. Sam looked sad. "Well, I suppose we could just jump on it now, then."

But neither of them did.

They enjoyed their last few hours together, running out into the water again, swimming out past the second buoy (Artie had only been out to the first before) soaking up the sun and lamenting the looming doom of school starting again.

As the sun started setting (far too soon in both of their opinions) on the day, the two boys parted with a bittersweet goodbye, with Sam promising Artie that they'd see each other next summer.

* * *

The next year, 7 and a half, and ready to take on the beach more than ever, Artie and his family rolled up to the car park of their favourite beach. Exactly four days before summer finished.

Artie spent 20 minutes trying to remember exactly where they had set down their town the year before, in hope of finding his friend Sam again. He'd promised the year before that they'd be back, and Artie had made them leave extra early so there'd be no chance they missed him.

10 o'clock became 11, then 12, then 1. Artie sat on his Gengar towel, refusing to go anywhere else until Sam came.

At 3 o'clock hope had waned, and Artie began to suspect that Sam wasn't coming at all. He got up off his towel and sulked down to the water, splashing around miserably. This year hadn't been as unpleasant as the year before at school - people only made fun of him every other day rather than every day and he'd made some friends. But Artie couldn't help comparing all of them to the fabulous boy from the beach. None of them clicked with him like Sam did. And none of them seemed to like him as much as Sam did.

He sat down in the shallows, wondering if he'd made it all up in his head, when he heard a voice, quiet and distant, but slowly growing louder as it drew nearer, yelling something Artie couldn't quite make out.

He turned around just in time to hear "SAM USED BODY SLAM" before being knocked over into the water.

"Sam!" Artie yelled excitedly. "I thought you weren't coming!"

Sam shook his head. "I promised, didn't I?"

The rest of the day was spent like their first, happy and laughing and ridiculous. Sam had been making sandcastles all year, but none of them had been as good as the one with Artie, so he begged him to help him make one again. And again they watched as it stood where the others fell.

The sunset came even quicker than the year before, as many times as Sam had begged it not to fall.

The two of them lay on the sand, watching the stars begin to poke out of the sky, hoping their parents would continue having their boring conversations for as long as possible, and not remember that it was high time to leave.

"Simba," Sam said dramatically, imitating Mufasa from _The Lion King_'s deep voice. "Look at the stars. The great kings of the past look down on us from those stars."

Sam would have gone on, he had the whole scene memorised. _So whenever you feel alone, just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you. And so will I._

But Artie was laughing way too loudly and Sam kind of loved his laugh so he didn't interrupt.

Artie's laughter eventually died down, and Sam fiddled with the sand around him, tossing it around and letting it run through his fingers. Thinking. He punched Artie lightly in the shoulder to get his attention.

"Artie, do you have a best friend?"

Artie shook his head, despite certainly having someone in mind. "Nope."

Sam punched him in the arm again, harder this time.

"_Ow!_"

A giggle escaped Sam's mouth. "You're supposed to say me, stupid."

The younger boy laughed, still rubbing his arm. "Fine, you can be my stupid best friend."

Sam sat up, excitedly. "Really?"

Artie nodded. "Of course!"

"Forever?" Sam tried, knowing that best-friends-forever wasn't something you promised someone lightly.

"Forever," Artie answered. And they pinky-sweared, confirming the deal at the highest possible power.

Soon after, once again, it was time to leave.

"Don't be late next year!" Artie yelled from his car as they drove off, back to Ohio.

"I promise!" Sam called back from his own car as they drove opposite directions away.

* * *

That year, however, the week before Christmas, everything changed.

A car crash. A hospital bed. "You'll never walk again." Physical therapy. Steep ramps. Sore arms. Names at school. Staring strangers. "What's wrong with him?" _What's wrong with me?_

Artie Abrams was about as miserable as he could remember. He didn't even want to go to the beach four days before summer finished. He didn't want his parents taking him around, pretending things were normal. Because they weren't normal. He wasn't normal.

"Nothing will be ever normal again," he'd screamed at his parents one particularly bad night.

But the morning of the fourth last day of summer, Jerry and Catherine had piled Artie and all of their stuff into the car. Artie sulked the whole way there.

"Come on, honey," Catherine had urged. "Your friend Sam will be there!"

Artie froze. _Sam_. He'd forgotten about Sam. His friend whom he'd run and swam and built grand castles with.

He wasn't any good to Sam any more, he thought, and then felt more miserable than ever.

This year, Sam had made good on his promise to not be late. They rolled up in the carpark at the same time, Artie with his heart fluttering at how Sam would react to his new condition, Sam with a huge lopsided grin that now included all of his front teeth at the thought of seeing his annual best friend.

Jerry Abrams unloaded the car and helped his son transfer into his wheelchair. They rolled up to meet the Evans family in the middle of the car park.

"Hi, Artie!" Sam's mum smiled a little too widely, her greeting a little too happy, more than just a flash of pity in her eyes – something Artie was already becoming quite sick of.

He grumbled a hello back, still refusing to look at Sam.

His dad explained the car accident briefly because the question was obviously heavy on the lips of Sam's parents.

"Dude," Sam breathed in wonder.

Artie looked up, surprised by his tone, but still expecting to see some form of rejection or disappointment or repulsion or-

"You never told me you were a transformer!" Sam gushed, running around to fully inspect Artie's chair. He practically messed himself when he saw the lights Artie had on the back wheels.

A look of total awe crossed Artie's face, as if he'd never made that connection before.

The grown-ups chuckled, and moved over to the edge of the small car park to talk or something boring like that.

"So you're not… afraid?" Artie checked, swivelling to face Sam who was still examining the chair.

"No?" Sam replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You don't think I'm a freak?"

"Nope!" Sam shook his head.

Artie sighed. "Most people do."

Misery flooded Artie's face – something Sam had decided he couldn't stand at all. It _was_ hard to see Artie like this, but he figured that's not what Artie wanted to hear at all.

"Well I'm not most people!" Sam said then added, putting on a strange voice, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!"

Artie laughed for what felt like the first time in such a long time, and Sam felt accomplished.

"I've been working on my impressions," Sam explained excitedly. "I can do Yoda now too!"

Jerry and Catherine heard the high pitched cackle from across the car park, exchanging watery smiles because it had been far too long since they'd heard their son laugh like that.

Artie didn't want to get sand all up in his wheels, so after asking very nicely their parents let them wander into town. Sam eagerly took Artie to the best hill to ride your bike down, and then he sat on his lap and they whizzed down together. Artie was sure his parents could hear him screaming from across town and was kind of worried they'd be annoyed at him for doing something so dangerous.

Then Sam took him into town and bought him a Transformers sticker he'd had his eye on for a while for Artie to stick on the back of his chair. Artie didn't think he'd ever gotten a better present.

Later, Sam showed him his house, not far from the beach, but there was a huge sign outside that read, 'For Sale.'

"You're moving?" Artie asked.

Sam nodded. "We're going out of state. Dad got a really cool new job."

"Will you ever come back here?" Artie found himself getting upset.

Sam shook his head. "Too far away," he mumbled.

There was a long silence.

"I suppose you'll miss your house," Artie said after some time. "And all your friends."

Sam gave a nod. "I'll miss you, too."

Artie bit his lip, before remembering something. "We're best friends forever, Sam. I'm sure we'll meet again someday."

Sam regained the bounce in his step. "Yeah!" he said excitedly. "Before you know it, I'll be back again!"

Artie gave an exaggerated sigh. "I just can't get rid of you, can I?"

Sam shoved him playfully and told him to shut up.

Artie nearly cried because no one shoved him anymore. Everyone treated him like he was some delicate piece of glass that'd break at any touch. But not Sam.

Slowly the day ticked away. And for a third time, the sun set, and the two boys bade their best friend goodbye.

Nearly nine years later, Artie started his sophomore year at school. Finn Hudson, his large friend, was rolling him down the halls, asking for his help convincing a new transfer student to join the glee club. But Artie had been called over by Mercedes for an emergency duet rehearsal before they found him.

Later Finn told Artie he hadn't been successful. That is, until a few weeks later, the new kid finally joined glee club.

"Hi everybody!" he'd waved as he jogged in happily. Artie noticed something familiar in those green eyes and that eager smile, but he couldn't quite place it.

"My name is Sam. Sam I am."

"No," Artie whispered, not able to believe it.

"And I do not like green eggs and ham."

"Sam?" Artie cried. "Is that you?"

Sam gaped. "A-a-artie?"

A look of total awe crossed their faces, neither able to believe they'd been at the same school for a good four weeks and hadn't made that connection before.

Sam launched himself at Artie, causing his chair which didn't have to brakes on, to spin out of control and knock a few people over.

Sam had Artie's face in his hands and he screamed, "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S YOU."

Artie yelled incoherently in response, waving his arms around in hysteria. Sam gained the ability to talk long enough to gush about how he couldn't believe they found each other again.

Artie scoffed. "Ye of little faith! We _pinky-sweared_," he told Sam emphatically. "Remember?"

Sam nodded. "We were always going to find each other."

* * *

_Stay tuned tomorrow for AU day! Feedback is more than appreciated. Thanks for reading!_


	2. AU: Naked

_**Title**: Naked  
**Genre**: Romance  
**Word Count**: ~2300  
**Pairing**: Artie/Sam  
**Summary**: Art student Artie Abrams gets a lot more than he expected when an adorable, charming, naked Sam Evans turns up to one of his classes._

* * *

Artie Abrams slammed his hands on the buttons of the dodgy elevator that seemed to be refusing to work. The light bulb in the foyer of the art building at his college buzzed at an irritating volume and he considered telling it to shut up, but talking to light-bulbs is apparently frowned upon and the amount of rage he was taking out on this stupid elevator probably already looked strange enough.

_Of all the underfunded faculties to choose,_ Artie grumbled internally. He ignored the probable looks of sympathy that were coming at him from everyone using the stairs and he pushed the button another few times, knowing that the elevator was there (_THE LIGHT IS RIGHT UNDER THE FUCKING DOOR_) but for whatever reason it didn't want him. Eventually it opened, he rolled in, barely fitting, and he finally made his way up to the fourth floor for his life drawing class.

Life drawing. Not as creepy as it sounded (or as creepy as his roommate Puck accused him it was), especially since most of the volunteers were senior citizens or eccentric men in their thirties – so he totally wasn't there to pick up hot guys or girls. Or maybe the senior citizens and crazies made it creepier… Artie wasn't sure. Either way as the elevator rumbled slowly up to the fourth floor Artie knew he'd be in for an interesting night because life-drawing always provided just that.

Rolling out of the elevator and into the studio where the classes took place, Artie noticed something wrong. Despite being 20 minutes late due to the elevator malfunction, the room was empty.

"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone here?"

A slight yelp and clattering sounds of books and coffee cups being jolted around in terror told him his art professor was here. Further surprised noises and cluttering as books were hurriedly placed precisely back on the shelves where they had been resonated from the small office of the studio, and the head of Emma Pillsbury, the life drawing instructor, popped out.

"Artie! What are you doing here?"

"Don't we have class," Artie checked his watch, "twenty minutes ago?"

Emma shook her head. "No, no. Cancelled for today," she explained. "One of our models cancelled and I couldn't get through to the other one. I sent out a message?"

"Phone's broken."

Emma made to make some acknowledging comment and begin to shoo Artie away, but her attention was quickly stolen by something over Artie's shoulder.

Artie looked around to see that a tall figure in a dressing gown looking quite flustered was shuffling with discomfort in the doorway behind him. Blond hair, kind of on the long side hung over his eyes of a striking green. Artie tried hard not to gape, but he was definitely looking at the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.

"_Damn_," he uttered under his breath. Artie didn't think he'd heard him but he could have sworn he saw the man catch his eye with the hintiest hint of a grin.

Artie cursed the rush of feelings that that tiny grin had caused to course through him - he never found people attractive this quickly. Normally he'd spend weeks watching people's every move, making up his mind on whether someone was worth his time and/or heartache and... wow he was really getting ahead of himself. He'd only been looking at this guy for four seconds.

He tried to collect his thoughts enough to say something but he felt like he didn't want to interrupt the man's presence because _damn_.

"Is this the uh..." the stranger in the doorway began awkwardly after Emma and Artie had gawked at him silently for slightly too long, "life drawing class?"

Emma hurried over to shake his hand and introduce herself. "Yes, yes it is! We're cancelled for today, though. I'm so sorry but I couldn't get through to you to let you know or-"

He waved her off forgivingly, flashing another grin that Artie was sure would have made his knees week were he able to feel them.

"My fault - phone's broken," he explained.

Emma apologised again regardless, before pausing. "Wait - why are you already um..." she gestured to his robe, desperately searching for a polite way to say naked.

"Well," Sam blushed with an embarrassed grin. "I kind of got lost and went into the wrong classroom and… let's just say… freshman graphic design class was a little more…_ graphic_ than usual."

Artie burst out laughing. "I bet you practiced that one the whole way here," he accused.

Sam gave Artie another winning smile. "You got me," He put his hands up in joking surrender.

Artie couldn't think of anything clever or charming enough to say so he just beamed at Sam for once again an uncomfortably long time.

Emma looked between the two of them. "Well," she said breathlessly, clasping her hands together, "since you're here we might as well have a class!"

Artie felt a blush rise to his cheeks at the idea and for the first time felt extremely nervous and bashful about painting someone naked.

"Cool!" Sam agreed. He added with a laugh, "As long as I get paid I'm happy."

And so about five minutes later Artie was parked in front of an easel and a naked Sam.

Normally Artie would knock out a couple of rough sketches every 10 minutes, but he was so preoccupied in drawing Sam as perfectly as he deserved to be that he scrapped everything quickly. Nothing was good enough.

After a while he had made some progress, but he always got stuck when it came to Sam's eyes. There was so much in them he just couldn't put down on paper – he felt bad for even trying! – so all of the sketches either had no eyes or ridiculous cartoony ones.

Eventually, he got completely stuck and ended up staring at a blank canvas for a good half an hour while he and Sam talked.

"Come here often?" Sam asked with a smirk.

Artie grinned helplessly. _Why is he so damn charming_.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Unfortunately? Don't you like this class?"

Artie laughed. "No, I do. Just my friends are super immature and think I'm just here to pick up."

Sam laughed too. "Yeah, if you were my friend I'd probably say the same."

"My roommate is actually disappointed that I don't pick up," Artie chuckled, knowing that again Puck would be waiting at the door when he got home tonight, asking about his adventures in 'naked land'.

Sam guffawed with laughter, but then after some thought he mused, "I would be too." He then added slightly under his breath with the makings of a wink, "but I'm kind of biased on that."

Artie's insides froze. He didn't dare believe that the very attractive very charming very _naked_ man was flirting with him.

Artie tried to bring the conversation back to a level where he could words again.

"So what made you want to be a life drawing model?" Artie asked as casually as possible, doodling mindlessly so Sam didn't think he was just there gawking at him and not drawing anything.

Sam shrugged and with a cheeky smile joked, "I really just like being naked."

Artie laughed a little too vigorously and dropped his pencils and brushes with a loud clatter. He scrambled to pick them up but he couldn't reach and he sighed, really despising his chair sometimes.

Sam was up before he even had to ask, and, sensing that it made Artie uncomfortable to no end when he was helpless like this, he continued the conversation. "Well, the real reason is that I'm in a band and we're not going so well."

Sam handed Artie his stuff, their hands lingering slightly. Artie murmured a thanks and smiled, cursing himself yet again for liking this guy more and more by the second.

"A band, eh?" Artie asked. "Would I have heard of it?"

"Probably not," Sam laughed, "unless you're a keen follower of the underground boy band scene."

Artie chuckled, a grin so wide that it hurt his face surfacing. "I'm sure there are a tonne of 14 year old girls who'd kill to be where I am now."

Chortling, Sam replied, "Actually there'd only be about four of them."

"Reckon I'd make much of a profit if I hawked these drawings to them?"

"Only if we split it 50-50."

"60-40," Artie challenged.

"Deal," Sam snickered.

There was a comfortable silence for a few moments; then Sam asked Artie to see what he'd drawn.

"Sure!" Artie agreed. He searched through the small pile of sketches that have accumulated, trying to find the best one when Emma appeared from the office.

"OK, that's time! Thanks for coming, Sam," she said, an arm held out in front in an attempt to obscure the… view. As much as he liked her, this was one of many moments in which Artie thought Emma wasn't cut out to be a life-drawing instructor.

"No problem!" Sam smiled, strolling off to find his clothes. Artie's heart sank. He really didn't want his time with Sam to be over already.

This was when he was struck with an amazing idea. As Sam chatted with Emma while gathering his stuff Artie scooped up his page of mindless doodles, scribbled his number on it, folded it up and presented it to Sam.

"Don't open it til you get home," he insisted, somewhat self-consciously. If all of the flirting had in fact been imaginary, he didn't want to witness Sam's rejection first-hand.

Sam beamed at Artie. "Thanks, dude! It was so great to meet you."

"You too, Sam," Artie could barely keep his smitten 13-year old girl feelings from creeping up into his face and his voice.

Sam tells him he'll be back for the next session, since most of the class hadn't been there and he's not one to say no to another pay check. "I'm sure you won't mind seeing me again," he added flirtily, biting his lip slightly as he smiled.

Artie waggled his eyebrows in response as he watched Sam leave.

Artie spent the entire week gushing to Puck about the amazing guy he met at life drawing class.

"New low, dude," Puck reprimanded. "New low."

"You're always saying I should meet someone at life drawing!" Artie said defensively.

"I take it back. It's super creepy." Puck laughed at the pout on Artie's face. He shook his head again before repeating, "New low."

"Worse than the time I-"

"Yes worse than the time you put _Boogie Shoes_ on repeat and then _broke the stereo_ so it stayed like that for _three weeks._"

Artie laughed. Most electrical appliances he touched seemed to break and-

"HOLD THE FUCK UP," Artie yelled suddenly.

Puck raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"My phone is _broken_," he said emphatically. Then he became hysterical, thinking Sam had tried to call him and hadn't got through.

But it was OK, because Sam would be there again the next week and they could both laugh about it and then get married and ride off into the sunset on a horse.

But when Artie showed up to class, Sam wasn't there. Artie immediately assumed the worst – Sam thought he'd rejected him and so pulled out of the class. Or worse still, Sam was totally creeped out by Artie giving him his number (which, the more Artie thought about, the more he realised was in fact quite creepy to do to a guy whom he'd stared at naked for two hours) and didn't want to see him.

Artie couldn't afford to fix his phone at the moment, so all he could do was keep his fingers crossed that Sam would show up the next week.

But he didn't.

And the week later after another Sam-less class, all hopes fully dashed, Artie miserably rolled into the elevator, closed the doors praying it wouldn't break down while he was in it, and rolled out with a sigh of relief as he arrived safely at the bottom floor. He headed to the ramp outside where, joy of joys, it was raining.

As he prepared himself to get absolutely drenched on the way home, Artie heard a voice from behind him.

"You never told me your name, Mr. My-Phone-Doesn't-Work-But-I-Give-Out-My-Number-Anyway."

_Sam._

Artie swivelled around and, there he was. Absolutely drenched in the dark night, but still practically glowing from his smile.

"It's Artie," Artie smiled.

"Artie the Artist." Sam chuckled as he walked over to him. "It's like poetry!" he exclaimed gesturing passionately.

Artie the Artist let out a laugh. "You're like poetry," he gushed before he could stop himself.

Sam smiled sweetly before continuing. "Well it's nice to meet you, Artie the Artist."

Through the rain that was now clogging his vision and making him wish someone would invent windscreen-wipers for glasses, Artie smiled back.

"You didn't come last week," Artie said, trying to keep the accusing tone out of his voice. "_Or_ the week before." Oops, there it was.

"Had a gig," Sam explained. "I didn't want to disappoint my fan."

"I'm sure you have more than one fan."

"If I include you that's two," Sam compromised. "Can I include you?"

Artie beamed. "Of course you can."

Sam moved closer again to him. He collected himself for a moment, before asking, "Look I know this is totally not in the order you're supposed to do it - I mean you'd seen me naked before we even talked… and before I learnt your name…"

The two of them chuckled, green eyes locked onto blue.

"But would you want to go out with me? Like on a date?"

Artie rejoiced. "I'd be honoured!"

"Awesome," Sam exclaimed. He tentatively took Artie's hand, and the two of them started moving in the same direction, rain still pouring heavily down on them.

"So when do I get to see _you_ naked?"

"What?"

"…What?"

* * *

_Stay tuned and keep your tissues handy for angst day tomorrow! And if this isn't enough Sartie for you hit up sartieweek on tumblr and let the Sartie tears commence!_


	3. Angst: Atlas

_**Title**: Atlas  
**Genre**: Romance/Angst  
**Word Count**: ~2400  
**Pairing**: Artie/Sam  
**Summary**: Sam is on his way to Finn and Rachel's wedding._

* * *

_MOVE THAT FINE ASS ALONG SAM EVANS WE ARE ALL WAITING BECAUSE FOR SOME REASON THIS WEDDING IS A THING THAT CAN'T WAIT_

_thers bad traffic artie-bear tell finn 2 start without me_

_aww cute he says he won't start without you boo. HURRY!_

_on my way! _

A frantic telephone call from Sam's parents later, the members of New Directions sat in extreme silence. Shocked.

Sam Evans had been hit by a truck and no one knew what to do.

Least of all his boyfriend, Artie. His mind had numbed over when Finn broke down crying on the phone to Sam's dad. It was more than anyone could take seeing - Finn kept up an appearance of being so together, so strong. As much as some of them didn't like it sometimes, he was their leader. And watching him crack like that was too much. Even before they know why.

He got it back together enough to tell them what had happened.

And then everyone broke in their own ways.

Kurt, Tina and Rachel had been sitting together – a dangerous combination at the best of times – and Artie watched the tears stream down their faces. Blaine folded in on himself, blank faced and leaning on Kurt's shoulder. Puck had Finn's head tucked in his shoulder as the larger boy shook, tears shining down his face too.

Artie watched everyone break, and it was strange to do. It was stranger still because he wasn't breaking. He couldn't feel anything. He'd shut down completely.

Someone had remembered him, an arm on his shoulder, telling him it will be ok. He didn't know who it was and he didn't care.

_Because how could anything be ok now._

Sam, his Sam, his perfect Sam who even if the world fell off its hinges, ended and burned around their feet could find something to make Artie smile, was gone. So nothing was ok.

Wait – gone? _Gone?_

As hard as he tried Artie couldn't imagine a single thing in a world where Sam was gone – dead, crushing under _a fucking truck_ - that could make him smile.

But gone… _properly gone. _That was something Sam couldn't be. The world had ended and was burning around his feet and Sam wouldn't be there to make him smile ever again.

Someone was shaking him, another arm was around his shoulder, a cold hand rested on his palm. Artie suddenly became aware that he was now gasping for air. He could see people in front of him were talking but he couldn't hear them. The room was spinning. His head hurt. He tried to roll away but his arms felt week. The faces around him were panicking, trying to make him stop panicking.

He blacked out.

He woke up later that day, still at the reception place, confused. After remembering what had happened all he wanted was to have something knock him out again.

There had been news, it had changed from they don't know what'll happen to critical condition with a large side helping of they don't know.

So Sam's not dead and Artie could breathe. This was all good until the hugely negative side of Artie brain crept in and whispered, very loudly, _for now_.

Kurt offered to drive Artie home, and they spent the trip in a thick silence. Kurt kept looking over, trying to find something to say, but never quite getting there. He put the radio on, trying to cover up the silence. Artie tried to let the music drown out his thoughts.

A mindless radio announcer drawled on about some competition, then the music started again.

_I know you love me_

_I know you care_

_Just shout whenever_

_And I'll be there_

_You are my love_

_You are my heart_

_And we will never, ever, ever be apart_

"Oh god," Kurt joked, "I can't believe they're still playing this song." He smiled at Artie encouragingly, hoping for a laugh. He was shocked to see Artie looking paler than before, the beginnings of tears sliding down his cheeks.

"A-artie?"

He sniffed. "Sam used to sing this to me all the time."

"Oh." Kurt didn't know how to respond to that. He considered turning it off but Artie seemed to be clinging to the song in his mind.

He was thinking about the last time Sam had sung that to him. They'd gone to the park – just the two of them – and Sam was trying out the ukulele Artie had bought him for his birthday. He couldn't quite figure out the transposition from the guitar to the ukulele, so he ended up singing it super high in this ridiculous falsetto. Artie had laughed so much tears had shown up in his eyes, and Sam had thrown the ukulele away, and dived on Artie to kiss the tears away, but Artie still couldn't stop his laughing.

He tried to remember being that happy. He tried to remind himself that it was only a few weeks ago.

But now he couldn't be sure if he'd ever do anything like that with Sam again. There was no laughter, jus tears. And no one to kiss them away.

_I'm in pieces_

_Baby, fix me_

_Or just shake me til you wake me from this bad dream_

_I'm going down, down, down, down_

_And I just can't believe my first love won't be around_

Artie sat in a stony silence the whole way home.

Kurt hugged him as he left him at his house, telling him to not give up, not expect the worse. He told him he'd be by tomorrow, to see how he was.

Artie wanted to thank Kurt, but, after a lump in his throat the size of his fist had been choking back tears for a good while now, he knew that if he spoke he'd set himself off and break down weeping. So he just nodded.

Artie sat on his bed, still in the itchy monkey suit.

Don't give up, don't expect the worst. He knew Kurt had been through this before with his dad, but he found his words shallow and hard to believe. Why _shouldn't_ Artie expect the worst - or at least prepare for it? – the voices urged. Everything was up in the air at that point. And from what little Artie had heard about the accident in a brief segment in the local news that night about the size of the truck and other fun facts, things didn't seem very positive. In fact, there was so little positivity in these news reports that Artie went and threw up for a good half an hour after seeing them.

The negative voices crept up again as Artie tried to sleep that night.

Artie rarely went down the wallowing-in-self-pity road, because it never led to a good place. But he indulged himself. He thought of all the awful things that had happened to him but shouldn't have. All the people he trusted who betrayed him. All the people who couldn't see past his damn chair. All the times when he finally could confidently say he was happy, only to have it pulled out from underneath him, leaving him feeling more empty than ever.

But most of all he thought of Sam. He couldn't keep his thoughts away from Sam. Sam who was so kind and giving to everyone. Sam who loved him. Sam who'd been through so much. Sam whose heart could be stopping and whose warmth could be leaving the world at any moment.

Artie felt sick again.

* * *

The next morning Artie lay in bed, staring at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. He hadn't slept at all but he had no intentions of getting out of his bed. He stared at his phone, willing it to ring with good news, but at the same time not daring his hopes to lift that high.

After a few hours there was a knock on his door. He listened as his younger brother answered it.

It was Sam's parents.

They came into Artie's room, where he was still lying in the tux on his bed.

Artie braced himself.

"He's fine," Sam's mum choked after a pause that was far too long and allowed Artie to have the worst thoughts.

"What?" Artie didn't dare believe it.

"Well," his dad said. "Not _fine _exactly. He's got a few broken ribs and legs… some scarring. He'll be in hospital for a while, but he'll be out good as new before we know it."

Artie choked out a sob of disbelief, which completely set of Sam's mum and she was hugging him and crying too.

"We're just on our way to go see him," she told him. "Did you want to come with us?"

Artie nodded and minutes later found himself in the car with Sam's parents and his brother and sister. They rolled up to the hospital and, like every time Artie went to a hospital, he was mistaken for a patient. It took all the self-control he had not to yell at a doctor who asked why he wasn't wearing his gown. He sat in the waiting room as Sam's family went to see him first. He heard them all laughing. He smiled, knowing Sam had probably made some wildly inappropriate joke about his condition to break the tension.

Eventually they came out, smiling with tears in their eyes. Sam's dad ruffled Artie's hair. "He wouldn't stop asking about you," he laughed. "So you should probably hurry up."

Artie rolled into the room, smiling widely, thanking his lucky stars that his Sam is fine and alive and ok and-

_So pale,_ Artie noted. So small looking. Tubes and bandages and machines all around him. The seriousness of the accident smacked him in the face again as he slowly rolled up to the side of Sam's bed.

"Hey, hot stuff," Sam smiled widely. Most of the colour had drained from his face. Artie found himself thinking about how much blood he must have lost in the accident.

"Hey," Artie whispered, wide-eyed, unsure of how to deal with this.

Sam reached out his hand for Artie to hold, and Artie took it gently, relishing the warmth that reminded him that Sam was still here.

Sam looked concerned. "Are you OK?"

Artie choked on a watery laugh. "I should be asking you that."

"You just seem a little…" Sam began, but Artie interrupted him.

"I thought I'd lost you."

"You didn't, though," Sam said, patting his hand. "That's the important part, right?"

"I just don't," Artie sniffed loudly, feeling himself get hysterical again. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"No," Sam whispered. "Artie don't talk like that. You don't need me. You're so strong."

A sob crept up Artie's throat. "No, you're the strong one, Sam. You've been through the worst and you still came out smiling at the end."

Squeezing his hand, Sam whispered. "So did you."

Artie allowed himself a laugh. "Fine. We're both Atlas then."

Sam looked confused.

"Greek mythology," Artie explained, placing another hand on Sam's to make sure he was still there. "He's super strong. Holds up the world."

Sam nodded, looking impressed.

"I'm sure there's a comic book version somewhere," Artie laughed. He sniffed loudly and another wet tear slid down his cheek. Sam moved to wipe it off with his thumb.

"I'll hold up your world if you hold up mine." Sam's hand was still on Artie's cheek, gazing into his boyfriend's eyes.

Artie bit his lip. "My world is yours anyway."

Sam looked touched, but the moment became too heavy so he jokingly inhaled sharply through his teeth. "Baby that was _cheesy,_" he laughed loudly.

Usually Artie would make some retort or call Sam out on his own cheesiness, but this time he just crumpled forward, putting his head on Sam's lap and, as much as he tried to prevent it, the waterworks started again. "Please, Sam, you nearly died." Artie's words came out fast, trying to beat the oncoming sobs. "I think I'm allowed to be a little bit cheesy."

Sam stroked his air and whispered soothingly to him. It hurt him enough to see Artie like this, so he couldn't imagine how Artie had been feeling.

"I'm here now, Artie-bear," Sam urged. "It's ok."

Artie's tears were making the front of Sam's hospital gown wet, but he couldn't stop. He made a weepy noise in response, repeating the words again and again in his head. _Sam's here. It's ok. Sam's here._

Artie eventually sat up again, coughing away the last few sobs and wiping his cheeks with his jumper.

"You all done now?" Sam smiled, tears glistening on his face too. Artie nodded and clasped his hand over Sam's again because they hadn't been touching for a few seconds and Artie still needed proof that Sam was still here and alive and warm and his.

Sam tried to lean down to kiss Artie, but his chest hurt too much and there were too many tubes and contraptions tying him down, and Artie's chair was too low. But Artie pushed himself up on the arms of his chair, lifting himself up just enough to meet Sam's lips for a sweet kiss.

Artie lowered himself back into his chair, and Sam chuckled, impressed. "That was kind of hot," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

Seeing Sam's doctor coming into the ward for another check-up, Artie leaned in to his boyfriend to say goodbye.

"I love you," Artie took Sam's hand in his, kissing it. "So much."

"I know," Sam grinned. "I love you too."

Artie knew this wasn't the end, that it wasn't going to get easier quickly. He knew Sam would be in the hospital for a long time. He knew there'd be days that are so hard and so hopeless and cold in this sterile place. There'd be nightmares of lights and car horns and shattering glass, the kind that came to Artie every so often. But Artie would be there for Sam for all of it.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Tomorrow is Sci-Fi day, so stay tuned for some Doctor Who!Sartie from yours truly!_


	4. SciFi: Three Hearts

_**Title**: Three Hearts  
**Genre**: Romance/Sci-Fi  
**Word Count**: ~4000  
**Pairing**: Artie/Sam  
**Summary**: Doctor!Artie finds Sam Evans, homeless and hopeless, and he decides to take him with him on his adventures in the TARDIS.  
__**Author's Note: **If you're not familliar with Doctor Who there's not much you need to know - just that the Doctor (Artie) is an alien called a Time Lord and he regenerates into various forms, and this form is Artie set about two regenerations after the current Doctor. He has a ship called the TARDIS and travels in time and hooray happy fun times._

* * *

Sam Evans sat, slumped against a building, his stomach rumbling, his mouth dry. He got up to find a bathroom somewhere, his shoes already on his feet as last time he slept without them they had been stolen. He sighed, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder, glad no one had tried to take it during the cold night, and miserably trod down the street where he'd slept, watching dawn break and wondering what the point of it all was.

He reached a corner and noticed there was a great kerfuffle going on in the usually quiet streets. Sam poked his head around the corner, curiosity replacing his melancholy.

A figure in a wheelchair zoomed past, followed by a long line of men in suits who seemed to be chasing him. Sam pondered the strange event for a moment, then dismissed it and turned around, back onto the side-streets, wandering with no aim.

He didn't get very far when out of an alley came a strange voice.

"Hey!" it said.

Sam peeked around hesitantly, on guard in case someone was trying something with him.

It was the guy in the wheelchair. He looked young, younger than Sam, but there was something… old about him. He had a striking appearance; a colourful vest, a white shirt buttoned all the way up, a bowtie and glasses that framed those old, honest eyes.

"Would you happen to know a good place to hide?" asked he hurriedly.

The young man piqued Sam's curiosity again. "What from?"

He chuckled mysteriously. "That will take far too long to explain."

Though confused, Sam's usual giving nature kicked in (it had been out of practice because recently he'd had nothing to give), and he obliged. "I know somewhere you can blend in?" he suggested, and the young man grinned, like he'd begun a new game.

"That sounds perfect," he said. "Can I ask your name?"

"Sam," Sam extended a hand in greeting. The man leaned forward and kissed it.

"The pleasure is mine, Sam," he said grandly.

Sam stared.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Wait - what year is it?"

"2014," Sam said, not sure how to take a question like that.

"Oh," the stranger breathed, slapping himself briefly on the head. "So it's more like," he shuffled a little in his seat, then pulled Sam in for a handshake-hug, "Give me some skin, dog!"

"That's a little closer, yeah," Sam laughed. He hadn't laughed in a long time.

The stranger applauded with a joyous grin, definitely looking very young again. "Awesome! This is like my favourite era."

Sam grinned despite his confusion. "Mine too?" he tried, still laughing.

So Sam and the stranger headed in the direction of the soup kitchen Sam went to occasionally.

They sat down in the crowded hall, munching on thick, warm pumpkin soup. Sam scraped his bowl clean, unable to recall when he'd last eaten this well - or at all. His friend (he felt alright calling him that already for some reason) was only nibbling at his, so he offered the rest to Sam who took it only after much persuasion. Then Sam realised there was something missing.

"Can I ask _your_ name?"

The blue eyed boy gave another mysterious chuckle. "I have many names," he said grandly, before adding in a stage whisper. "Some are a little too well known around these parts if you know what I mean."

Sam had no idea what he meant but he nodded enthusiastically anyway.

"So you can call me Artie, I guess," Artie said. "That'll do!"

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Artie," Sam smiled, taking Artie's hand and kissing it jokingly.

Artie let out a musical laugh that Sam wanted to memorise and keep in his head forever.

They smiled at each other for a while, and then Artie looked around frantically. There was a low, droning sound in the distance.

"Well, it truly has been a pleasure, Sam," Artie said. "But I really must be going."

"OK," Sam said agreeably. "Do you know your way back? Because I can help if you need me."

Artie stopped his rushing for just a moment to sigh, smile, and mutter, "Humans!" in a fond tone.

The droning got louder.

Then there was a crash.

A small army of men in suits had knocked down the doors of the soup kitchen.

"DOCTOR," they chanted in unison in droning, inhuman voices that boomed throughout the hall. "WE HAVE WARRANT FOR YOUR ARREST."

People scrambled away in terror. A young woman stumbled over a chair, falling to the floor in her panic, and Sam immediately went to help her up.

"SAM," Artie's voice rang over the crowd. "GET OUT OF HERE."

Sam turned to see the suits forming a ring around Artie. Confused but determined and sensing danger, he ran over to help him.

The suits turned around to face him in alarming unison. There was a flash. Everything went black.

Sam woke up on a cold floor in a large room. The lights burned his eyes at first, but then he found them colourful and warm.

_Where was he?_

A voice echoed through the room, answering the question.

"Hey there, sleepy human!" the voice was kind and sweet and there was a smile to it that Sam longed to see with his eyes as well as his ears. He tried to sit up but a burning sensation in his chest stopped him. He groaned slightly in pain.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Artie said wisely, but concern cut through his tone and he sigh and rolled towards Sam to help him up.

"Where am I?"

"The question is: when are you?"

"Is it?"

"That joke will be funnier once I explain everything else."

Artie was something called a Time Lord, it seemed. He travelled around in time having all sorts of adventures. The suits that were after him had shot Sam with some kind of very powerful stunner, so he'd be out of action for a few weeks. Artie had had quite the elaborate escape, and was kind of disappointed Sam had missed it all. And he'd taken him with him because he was too injured and too much associated with Artie to be left behind.

"Why were they chasing you?" Sam asked, all this information spinning in his brain.

Artie sighed. "In order to save a rather large planet," he began. "A few expensive spaceships suffered some collateral damage and… they're suing me." He scoffed. "That's space lawyers for you."

Sam gaped. "Planets? Spaceships? Space... lawyers? This is like stepping into a comic book or something. Am I dreaming?"

Artie's face lit up. "Are you a sci-fi fan?"

Sam nearly screamed yes.

Artie applauded again with that childish grin. "Oh, you are my favourite kind of human!"

He fiddled with some controls in the centre of the room that Sam was only just noticing, his head still spinning slightly. He then helped Sam, who couldn't move very much without feeling like he was on fire, up onto his lap and wheeled him to the doorway, opening it up and-

"Sweet Jesus on a stick."

Artie looked impressed. "That's a new one."

Sam nearly had tears in his eyes as he looked out the window – stars and comets and ripples of galaxies danced past them. A large blue planet loomed in the distance. Not Earth – somewhere new. _Somewhere new,_ Sam thought, his mind overcome with joy at the thought. The dark was so bright and the colours were so vivid Sam had to grip Artie's hand, which was around his waist, just so he wouldn't swoon too much, and faint and fall out.

"You like?" Artie checked.

"I love."

"Well good!" Artie exclaimed, slamming the door shut and ignoring Sam's whimper. "Because there's a lot more to see once you get better!"

"And until then?" Sam asked, looking longingly at the door.

Artie looked thoughtful. "I have Cluedo! Humans like Cluedo right?"

And so, for the next few weeks, Sam slowly got better - that is, it stopped feeling like he was burning whenever he breathed and other good things - and he got to know Artie better too. They hung around amicably, laughing at how weird each thought the other was, and marvelling at how oddly similar they were despite that.

"How long can I stay with you?" Sam blurted one morning as they sat in the TARDIS, Sam reading one of an infinite stack of books and Artie whacking some unfamiliar contraption with a spanner. He ignored Sam briefly, giving the thing another few good whacks and leaving some dents before holding it out in front of himself proudly.

"Fixed!" Artie beamed at Sam, waving the thing.

"Awesome!" Sam couldn't keep down an adoring grin. He waited for the answer as Artie rolled around the thing, admiring its fixed-ness.

"Well, you should definitely stay til you're fully over that stunner," Artie said thoughtfully. "And I do owe you at least a few trips to wherever or whenever you like…" he went on, then looked up at Sam and smiled. "And after that you can stay as long as you like!"

And Sam was so happy to hear it.

The day when Artie decided Sam was well enough to go out, Sam was practically jumping with excitement. He actually did bounce around and Artie watched on and chuckled fondly. Sam turned around when he heard the laugh, smiling hugely at who it came from.

Artie was dressed in a sweater vest and a bowtie just like the day Sam had met him. Since then he'd decided they were going to pyjama party the hell out of the TARDIS as Sam was sick and who the hell wears clothes when they're sick, so Sam hadn't seen him dressed properly in a good while.

He looked Artie up and down indulgently, choosing the least inappropriate comment his brain could find. "Nice bowtie."

Artie grinned. "Oh you would have loved the old version of me."

"This version's pretty good," Sam flirted, looking Artie up and down again because _damn_. It had taken him a few days to realise how attractive he found Artie. It had kind of snuck up on him, because among all the things to notice about Artie (_he's so nice he's so funny he's so caring he has such a stupid laugh he eats so messily he's so good at Cluedo_, Sam gushed internally) he was kind of overwhelmed. But once he'd realised how gorgeous Artie was he couldn't, no matter how he tried, stop noticing.

Artie waved a flattered arm in response, his cheeks growing a shade redder. He asked Sam where he wanted to go.

Sam's brain threatened to combust when given the option of going anywhere in time and space, so Artie decided for him. They went to Tokyo in the 2400s. Artie thought he'd start Sam off somewhere tame - because Tokyo's always kind of looked like this and if he took Sam to meet a wookiee he'd probably cry. They wandered the streets together and went to dinner, served by robotic waiters who were surprisingly charming.

But, as always happened whenever Artie went anywhere, shit got cray. The robots in this restaurant, it turned out, had been feeding on the patrons for weeks now and had been the site of hundreds upon hundreds of disappearances. Sam and Artie thwarted the robots before desert could be served with Artie's quick wit and Sam's compassion and they went back to the TARDIS feeling particularly chuffed.

"Does this kind of stuff always happen to you?" Sam asked.

"You have no idea."

After that they went everywhere Sam could have dreamed of, getting up to all sorts of shenanigans, rescuing people and whole populations and eating strange alien delicacies. Sam did end up crying when he met his first wookiee. She'd been slightly offended before Artie explained that he was just a big fan.

Something caused Sam confusion when Artie ran into an old friend who didn't recognise him at all, until Artie explained that he'd regenerated. It reminded him of the comment Artie had made a few weeks ago about this 'version' of him and though at the time Sam had been too busy checking him out to properly thoughts, his confusion was properly setting into his mind.

When they got back to the TARDIS, Sam asked. "Wait - what did you mean by 'new version' of you?"

"Oh, we haven't had that talk yet?" Artie responded.

"No?"

Artie explained that he was the 14th form of the same guy, and around 1000 years old (he'd stopped counting because he was getting a little sensitive about his age).

Sam looked impressed. "You look pretty good for your age," he commented.

"Damn straight!" Artie exclaimed.

Sam was curious. "Is there anything else I should know about you?

"Time Lord things? Yeah, there are loads of those. Two hearts, for example!"

Sam scoffed in disbelief.

"I'm a time travelling alien who has taken you on board and the great expanse of time and space including ancient Rome and your planet in 1000 years the bit you find hard to believe is two hearts?" Artie mocked.

Sam laughed, still looking like he didn't believe him.

"Here, feel!" Artie invited, taking Sam's hand and placing it over one heart and then the other.

"Wow," Sam breathed, the alien-ness of Artie _really_ sinking in now. He moved his hand back to the first heart when he noticed something. "They're beating really fast."

"Yes," Artie agreed thoughtfully, putting a hand over Sam's absent-mindedly. "It's been doing that a lot recently. I checked and I haven't found any medical reason to explain it." He shrugged." I should figure it out soon enough."

Sam removed his hand and placed it over his own, beating equally fast. His stomach jolted the realisation dawned on him; he was falling for this boy.

Well, not boy, 1000 year old alien.

But still, nothing else could explain these feelings. And as Artie, whose hands were now on his chest, was exclaiming how strange it must be to only have one heart, Sam wasn't sure if he hoped or feared Artie was feeling the same.

* * *

One night in between stop-offs, Sam and Artie were sitting on the floor opposite each other. Sam was reading a book of fairytales from Artie's home-planet intently, and Artie was watching Sam intently.

After a while Sam noticed Artie's gaze. "You ok?" he asked, a blush forming in his cheeks as he met those kind blue eyes.

Artie smiled back at him. "Humans are funny," he explained, and continued to watch Sam.

Sam tried to continue the book but he couldn't get those eyes out of his mind. Bluer than any sea or sky he'd ever seen and so full of everything. He was sure if he looked hard enough he'd see galaxies spinning in those eyes. He gave in to temptation, looking up again and meeting the eyes of the alien who'd been haunting his mind and his dreams and his heart ever since his first night on the TARDIS. Artie could be anywhere in time or space, with anyone, but he chose to be here with Sam, watching him read in the dim light.

It was with that thought that Sam found himself putting the book down, shifting onto his knees and leaning forward to kiss Artie. Their lips met and there was an explosion in Sam's heart. Artie's breath was warm and fast on his face and his tongue slid into his mouth and Sam wasn't sure if it was some kind of alien magic or something but he was sure he's never felt anything like this when kissing anyone before. He was sucking on Artie's bottom lip and moving to put his arms around his neck, his hands in his hair, and hold him close and never let go when he felt Artie pulling away.

"Stop, Sam, you need to stop," Artie pleaded, a fragility showing on his face that Sam didn't think he'd ever see.

"What?" Sam asked thickly. He couldn't understand why anyone would want to stop doing that because wow. "Is that not how they do it on your planet?" he checked, half-joking and half-worried he'd totally grossed Artie out with his humanness.

"No, Sam, it's not that," Artie whispers glumly, his hands still on Sam's, clutching like he'll lose him if he lets go. "I've been through this before with humans. It never works out."

There was a darkness to his tone that Sam couldn't quite place, but he challenged Artie anyway. "It doesn't have to be like that," he insisted. "We could be so good together."

"Sam, no," Artie said, more sternly this time.

"I just-" Sam stuttered desperately, not wanting to lose this perfect thing when they were so close. "Why not? What's the worst that could happen?"

Artie was getting hysterical now. "Oh, I don't know?" He was yelling. "You could… die? Get stuck in another universe? Get so damaged beyond repair that you'd die anything made you remember me?" there were tears glistening in his eyes. He'd let go of Sam's hands and was scrambling back into his chair.

Sam shook his head. "That stuff won't happen, Artie."

"It already has," Artie's voice cracked. "And even if it doesn't you'd leave me. If people survive long enough to have the option they always leave me." Artie thought of the simple girl he'd fallen for from a planet that seemed like a children's story book, or the dark, intense soldier girl with the colours in her hair who had this radiant smile that'd she'd always saved just for him… until someone else came along.

"I would never leave you," Sam whispers, first anxious at the feel of this absolutely superlative statement on his lips, until he realised it was true.

Artie laughed coldly. "That's what they all say." He was rolling away into another room.

"Artie, do you know what I had before you found me?"

Artie didn't turn around. Didn't answer.

"I had nothing. I'd given up on myself. I had no friends… no family," Sam said, his voice cracking. "I hadn't eaten for days and was giving up, trying to figure out a way to die quietly so some poor person wouldn't find my body and be traumatised or something."

Artie nearly smiled. Trust Sam to not want to inconvenience anyone even when dying. But… he stopped the smile before it surfaced. He just couldn't have feelings like this. He couldn't handle this anymore.

"You gave me a second shot," Sam went on. "You saved me. Every day I have now is because of you. So I'm not afraid," Sam walked towards Artie, placing a hand tenderly on his shoulder, "of you – or, or anything that could happen. I just want to be like this for as long as we can."

Artie shook Sam off and stormed out.

Sam went to bed, wondering what could happen now and cursing himself for royally screwing up with his stupid humany-wumany feelings.

The TARDIS rudely woke him up by tossing him out of bed as she jolted around, landing somewhere.

He crept out of bed, wondering if Artie's brought him back to where they met, getting rid of him. He sees that the doors are wide open and the light is streaming in.

His head peeking out the door, holding his dressing gown close, Sam tiptoes out onto an unmistakably alien but strikingly familiar planet. Neon trees lit the still-dark dawn, revealing trees and flowers and creatures that were so strange but so amazing. He walked over to a tree, touching it gingerly, taking everything in.

Then he realised.

He'd had _dreams_ about this place ever since he was fifteen years old. This was the planet from his favourite movie, _Avatar_.

"Pandora," he whispered.

Artie emerged from behind a tree and rolled up beside him.

"I was hoping you'd like it," he said sheepishly.

"I love it," Sam whispered, spinning around, trying to take it all in.

Artie laughed. "James Cameron owes me so much money."

Sam laughed too, and looked down at Artie who was grinning up at him. He forgot the planet, the trees and the noises at the sight of him. He could be anywhere and it would always be this beautiful if he was with Artie. He went to touch his face, to thank him, but he remembered the night before and recoiled.

"No," Artie said, taking Sam's hand before it flew back to his side. "It's ok, Sam."

"It is?" Sam stared at their entwined fingers that were sending tingles up his spine.

"I'm sorry," Artie went on. "I was so afraid of losing you... I'm damaged goods you know," he laughed sadly. "I've seen so much and there are just... some things I never want you to see."

Sam took Artie's other hand and knelt down in front of him. "And I don't you to ever have to see those things without me there for you."

Artie laughed. "Exactly," he said. "I think I need you, Sam."

"I definitely need you," Sam responded.

"Well it's settled then!" Artie exclaimed widely, his face scrunching in a grin. His expression softened and became more serious as he lowered his voice. "I want to spend as much of forever as I can with you."

"Sounds good to me," Sam grinned, and as Artie knelt down to kiss him he knew this was going to be a fucking fantastic forever indeed.

* * *

_Hope you liked that! Sorry this came out a bit late! The sexy one will be up today as well very soon._


	5. Sexy: Shiver

_**Title**: Shiver  
**Genre**: Romance  
**Pairing**: Artie/Sam  
**Summary**: Artie was definitely ready._

* * *

"Are you ready for this?" Sam's voice reached Artie in the near dark.

Artie gulped and nodded. He was definitely ready. This was something he'd been waiting for, for so long, and now was the perfect moment. And he had the perfect person.

His perfect person was edging towards him now, air thick with tension, only the sounds of their heavy breathing and fluttering hearts.

"I see you shiver with antici-"

"No Tim Curry impressions!" Artie scolded, giggling and giving Sam a light shove.

"Pation," Sam finished rather sadly to himself.

"You'll ruin the moment!"

Sam licked his lips. "I'll ruin you," he said hungrily, then kissed Artie swiftly, eliciting a small groan from Artie's throat. Sam tangled his fingers in his boyfriend's hair and he felt his hands trailing down his back, pulling him closer. His lips parted slightly at the next kiss and Artie's tongue found his. Sam smiled at the familiar warmth and taste and he shivered.

They broke away, smiling widely at each other.

"You sure you're ready?" Sam asked again, trailing the backs of his fingers down Artie's cheek.

Artie shivered despite himself before breaking into an eager smile and growling. "Stop asking me that and just do it."

Sam gave out an impressed laugh and he crawled over, taking it in his hand and showing Artie.

"It's so big," Artie breathed in awe.

A sultry look spread across Sam's face. "Yeah it is."

"Put it in," Artie ordered.

And Sam did.

A soft whimper escaped Artie's lips and Sam breathed heavily, holding his boyfriend close. Lights appeared in front of them and their soft noises erupted into screams and cheers.

The Nintendo 64 loading screen was up. Sam and Artie were fucking excited. Artie had dragged out his old Nintendo 64, his baby, that had broken and Sam had convinced him to get Finn to try to fix it. They were playing _Super Smash Brothers_ to test it out and Artie couldn't believe the difference in size between the Nintendo 64 games and the little discs he used in his Xbox!

Artie was so glad he had someone like Sam to share this with and they played for hours into the night, Sam's head resting on Artie's shoulder.

After some of the best old-style gaming the two of them could remember, Sam spoke.

"So, when we finish this level do you want to have sex?"

"Sure!"

* * *

_Sorry I'm not sorry. Tomorrow is missing scene day!_


	6. Missing Scene: Best Beards Ever

_**Title**: Best Beards Ever  
**Genre**: Romance/Fluff/Revenge  
**Word Count**: ~2000  
**Pairing**: Artie/Sam  
**Summary**: The Rachel Berry Trainwreck Extravaganza brings fourth some suppressed urges.  
_**_  
_**

* * *

Santana had insisted on coming over to Sam's to check his outfit choice for Rachel's party. He'd rolled his eyes hugely over the phone at her for this.

"I can dress myself you know," he groaned irritably.

Santana chuckled patronisingly. "No you can't."

"Yes I-"

"I'll be there in five."

Sam walked out into the living room where his… uh… girlfriend, Santana, was waiting for him wearing an impatient expression. She looked Sam up and down and then shook her head.

"No," she said simply, waving him off to try something else.

"What, why?"

"Too gay," Santana said simply.

Sam looked down at his green V-necked shirt and skinny jeans and pouted. This was his favourite shirt. The last time he'd worn this T-shirt was when he saw Iron Man 2 with Artie and Puck and Artie had said it brought out his eyes and…

"Come on, Sam," Santana urged, now getting up and pushing him back into his room. "We're going to be late and I wants to get my drink on."

"I'm going, I'm going!" Sam snapped, exasperated. Santana went with him and chose something she deemed acceptably heterosexual and they walked together to Rachel's down the road.

"Don't let me get too drunk," Santana urged as they turned the corner to Rachel's house. "Or at least keep me away from Britt if I do."

"Only if you don't let me get too drunk," Sam contested. "Or keep me away from… guys."

Santana smirked. "Guys?"

Sam rounded on her. "Yes. Guys. That's kind of the point of this whole-"

"You don't have any particular guys in mind?" Santana teased, leering at him.

"No!" Sam shouted maturely.

"No?" Santana put on a face of mock confusion. "Not even Artie?"

Sam stopped short. "Wha-what?" he asked helplessly. "I don't-"

"Shh," Santana silenced him with a finger over his lips. "Auntie Tana always knows."

Sam started to panic. Artie was his best friend, and yes, while he was one of the few people who knew about Sam being gay, knowing about his feelings for him was a different thing altogether. He didn't want to ruin everything they had by complicating things.

Santana went on. "Good thing he and Britt have been broken up long enough for it not to be weird if anything happens," she mused, allowing herself an indulgent grin.

"Nothing's going to happen," Sam said firmly.

"I know," Santana sighed, "But we can dream right?"

Sam's mind was still racing. "Please, please don't tell him," Sam begged. "Or anyone!"

Santana put a hand on Sam's arm comfortingly and laughed with a mocking yet affectionate tone at his panic. "Do you not understand how this whole beards thing works?"

Sam bit his lip.

"We look out for each other," Santana told him emphatically, with a sudden seriousness. "I don't tell anyone anything you don't want them to know."

Sam stared at her, watching for a flicker of something to distrust or doubt, but he found none.

"Thanks, San."

"No problems, Trouty," she smirked, leaving the previous tender moment behind. "Now let's get our drink on!"

Sam and Santana's promises of not letting each other get too drunk were less than successful.

The room was spinning but Sam felt totally on top of the world. He was sure he'd never danced better either. He looked over and saw Santana dancing extremely closely and provocatively with Brittany and remembered something about needing to pull them away… but a voice stopped all of his thoughts.

"Sam I don't feel well," slurred Artie, tugging on Sam's hand.

Artie had the same effect on Sam that kittens had on cat people. He just wanted to scoop him up and cuddle him until nothing was wrong. But he wasn't sure if he'd be able to carry Artie very well because his legs were having enough trouble with him, so they went to find some water and sat down on the couch next to Mercedes and Tina.

"Great party, huh?" Sam said to Artie, who had just struggled out of his wheelchair onto the couch. He was looking less pale now, but still slightly unstable. After a slight pout and a sad nod from the smaller boy, Sam couldn't help but wrap his arms around him and start stroking his hair.

"You'll be fine, Artie!" Sam was yelling despite their closeness. "I won't let you die."

Artie snuggled closer to Sam's chest. "Thanks, Sam."

Soon, Artie felt better and insisted that Sam dance with him. Sam took the instruction 'dance' as 'straddle my lap and dance extremely suggestively', but Artie totally didn't seem to mind. Sam practically fell onto the wheelchair at one point, only just catching himself before head-butting Artie by grabbing the back of his chair. There was something interesting in Artie's eyes and Sam felt Artie's arms around his shoulders, pulling him down closer when-

"SAM!"

Santana called him over, detaching herself from Brittany - who she'd been grinding with.

"SAN," Sam yelled over the music, then he pulled away from Artie and bounded towards her. "I'M SO GLAD YOU DIDN'T LET ME GET TOO DRUNK OR ELSE I'D BE DOING SOMETHING REALLY GAY RIGHT NOW."

Santana stumbled towards him. "ME TOO SAM. BEST BEARDS EVER."

They high-fived each other, totally chuffed at their achievement. Then Santana dragged him over to the couch and pounced on him with furious kisses just to be sure.

Four beers and two wine coolers later, Sam was on the ground next to Artie watching Santana do shots off Brittany. He laughed so hard he collapsed onto the smaller boy's lap.

Someone suggested Sam do bodyshots off Artie.

"You up for that, dude?" Sam checked.

"You know it!" Artie lay down and ripped off his shirt like Superman. "Go!" he urged with a laugh.

Sam's brain short circuited at the sight of him and his bare chest and… abs? "Is that what you've been hiding under those grandpa sweaters?"

Artie chuckled then yelled, "LESS TALKING MORE DRINKING."

Sam made some loud noise of agreement, and then tried not to fall over as he bent down. His tongue slid up Artie's abs clumsily, missing the trail of salt. Sam definitely wasn't opposed to the idea of having another go though, and he relished every inch of Artie's skin under his tongue. He took the shot, burning all the way down to his stomach.

Everyone was cheering and laughing and screaming. Artie had that strange look on his face again.

"Your abs taste awesome, dude," Sam gushed, still balancing on his hands, propped up directly over Artie.

Artie didn't laugh, but stared at Sam still with that strange look. Suddenly Artie's arms were around Sam's shoulders again, and this time he managed to pull him down properly and he kissed Sam desperately. Sam's brain took a moment to register what was happening, but then he started kissing Artie back in earnest, trying to put all the suppressed feelings for his friend into the kiss because he knew he wasn't really capable of words at the moment. He tried not to let the kiss get too sloppy, but that seemed to be exactly what Artie was going for, kissing him furiously, frantically, mouths parted, tongues exploring. Artie clung to Sam, pulling him down further, closer, because they were both sure they needed to close any space between them, but if Sam got any closer he'd fall on top of Artie, so instead he pulled Artie so he was sitting in front of him and both their arms wrapped around each other, holding tight, hands everywhere. They broke away reluctantly, lips swollen but smiling. Sam planted a sweet kiss on Artie's forehead.

Then he remembered suddenly that their entire extended group of friends was there too.

A small cheer came over the music.

"GET SOME!" Puck was yelling.

No one else seemed to have noticed, however, because the somewhat more unlikely pairing of Blaine and Rachel were totally getting it on on the other side of the room and everyone was reacting with various degrees of amusement and horror.

And after that Sam didn't remember much.

He woke up, head pounding, back aching on an uncomfortable couch in an unfamiliar room and groaned loudly.

"What's happening?" he moaned, curling himself up on the couch so clumsily that he knocked himself off.

He heard voices cackling from the other side of the room. He looked up to see Artie and Puck sitting next to each other, watching him and hooting with laughter. They both drank a lot more than he did more often, so they didn't seem to be as badly affected.

Sam crawled over, berating them for laughing, but it just made them laugh harder. When he reached them he was still whining, and he put his head on Artie's knee, looking up at his friend with a sour expression in hopes of getting some kind of hangover remedy or at least a cuddle.

_Wait._

The events of the night before came flooding back to Sam and he leapt away from Artie, standing up quickly, eyes wide in shock.

"And…" Puck announced loudly, "That's my cue to go!" he sauntered out of the room making inappropriate comments all the way.

"Artie, I'm so sorry," Sam blurted out immediately.

"Sam it's-"

"I know I should have told you I had feelings for you but I really didn't want to ruin everything that we-"

"Sam, I don't-"

"-have… because like you're the best Artie. And I don't want to lose you ever. But I was drunk and-"

"Please, Sam!"

"I promise it'll never happen again and we can just forget this ever happened."

He stared at Artie, waiting for a response.

"Two things," Artie began dramatically.

Sam nodded, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

"First." He held up a finger. "_I_ kissed _you._ So I'm pretty sure if anyone should be apologizing it should be me."

Sam opened his mouth to respond but Artie silenced him with his hand.

"Second: we definitely shouldn't pretend this never happened," he said seriously. "In fact, I think it should happen a lot more."

"Really?" Sam asked, a huge grin gracing his features.

Artie grinned back. "Really," he said. "Like… it could happen again now if you'd like?"

"Oh, I'd like," Sam said, kneeling down, taking Artie's face in his hands and kissing him. Not like the night before – it was a sweet, simple kiss, sealing the deal of whatever was to come next between them.

Just as they broke apart, Sam's phone vibrated.

It was Santana.

_Morning gayface. I just woke up at Britt's and I can't find my underwear… I think my beard got shaved off last night._

Santana's phone buzzed just as she crawled out of Brittany's bed on the hunt for some clothes.

It was a photo: Sam flashing her a grin bigger than she could remember seeing with those guppy lips of his while Artie, not looking at the camera, was kissing his cheek.

_Yeah, me 2, _said the message underneath.

Santana smiled, proud of her boy.

_Congratulations,_ she texted.

_Shhh can't talk - making out_.

* * *

_Hooray! Tomorrow's the last day so stay tuned for FUTURE SARTIE. Will they be married? Have kids? Who knows? I don't! I need to get on that now actually. If you have any suggestions or requests let me know!_

_p.s_

_For those of you who don't know this missing scene is extra missing scene-y because Sartie actually did bodyshots off each other in BIOTA but it got cut due to time my endless creys_


	7. Future: Arm Candy With Benefits

_**Title**: Arm Candy With Benefits  
**Genre**: Romance/Fluff  
**Word Count**: ~2500  
**Pairing**: Artie/Sam  
__**Summary**: Artie and Sam shouldn't be allowed to go to award shows but they do.  
**A/N:** This is extremely cheesy and self-indulgent I am aware but shhh fluff.  
_

* * *

Artie Abrams lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, stomach churning, mind racing, heart pounding. It was late – how late he didn't know – and his bed felt cold. He scrambled over to the clock on the bedside table, now curious about the time. It was too blurry for him to see – in his tiredness he'd forgotten he needed glasses – so he grabbed his glasses and turned on the lamp.

3 am.

Great.

He rolled over and sighed, and he'd just turned light off when another light walked into the room.

"Hey, hot stuff," his boyfriend Sam grinned at him. "Why are you still up?"

Artie rubbed his eyes. "Can't sleep," he explained, then he held out his arms for a hug.

Sam chuckled. "You turn into a five year old when you're tired, you know." He dropped the guitar and bag he was holding at the door and made his way towards Artie in the dark.

"Don't care," Artie said, pouting. "Need hug."

Sam obliged, pulling Artie to his chest and resting his cheek at the top of his head.

"You nervous about tomorrow?" he asked him.

"Nope," Artie replied stubbornly, going on in a calculated voice. "There's nothing I can do now but hope for the best. All the work's long done and worrying won't make it any more likely that we win."

"Yeah, you know that," Sam smiled, "But you're still nervous. _I'm_ nervous and I'm not the one with an Academy Award nomination looming over me!" he laughed.

Artie gulped. Whenever anyone said the words 'Oscar' or 'Academy Award' he was always gripped with fear that it was all just a crazy dream. But there was one other thing he was nervous about for tomorrow as well…

"How many nominations did your movie get again?" Sam jeered, trying to make Artie feel better. "Was it two? Three?"

"Four," Artie whispered into Sam's chest, allowing himself an indulgent smile.

"Exactly," Sam said, kissing the top of Artie's head, holding him closer.

Artie grinned, his worries melting away in Sam's arms. He sighed and stayed with his head against Sam's chest until he realised something.

"Sam, you smell," he coughed, recoiling slightly.

Sam lifted up an arm and gave a sniff. "Whoa!" he said, making a face. "Sorry about that."

Artie laughed. "It's ok," he said, before adding with a smirk. "It's kind of hot."

Sam shook his head. "There's a point where smelling like sweaty beer stops being the sign of a good gig and starts being totally gross."

Artie giggled as he watched Sam wrestle himself out of his smelly clothes and throw them away in disgust.

Sam looked up. "So you're just going to ogle at me?"

Artie stared unabashed. "Yup."

"How long have we been together now?" Sam asked mockingly. "And you're still gaping like some horny teenager?"

Artie laughed. "Nine years?" he mused. "We got together when we were eighteen…"

"Wow," Sam stopped throwing clothes around to give Artie an awed look. He couldn't really say he was surprised they had lasted that long – the two of them just _worked_ together so well. "That's ages. Now I feel really old."

"Me too," Artie made a disgusted face. "Gross, huh?"

Sam laughed. "Totally."

He hopped into the shower in their en suite, singing loudly. Artie melted back into the pillows and sighed. _There were definitely some perks to living with a musician,_ he thought, losing himself in Sam's voice.

There were also some drawbacks however. Sam got so into his shower performances that they went for ages at a time.

"Sam!" Artie yelled. "Hurry up! I can't sleep without you."

"Two-minutes, Artie-bear!" he called back, starting a new song.

Artie sighed fondly.

Eventually Sam's shower concert ended and he snuggled up against Artie under the covers. Artie immediately wrapped his arms around firmly his waist, like it had been ages since they'd touched.

Artie rested his head on Sam's chest. "How did the gig go?" he asked, enjoying the rise and fall of Sam's breathing. "Sorry I didn't ask before."

Sam waved it off. "It's fine. And it went really well," he said. "We sold out the place which was pretty cool."

"Wow." Artie planted a congratulatory kiss on the side of Sam's jaw.

"Yeah, now that we're actually popular and making money Lauren can stop telling Finn to stop throwing his drumsticks into the crowd because she doesn't want to have to pay for new ones."

Artie laughed. Lauren had been a hardass manager since she tried to take on the boyband they started in their sophomore year. Artie wasn't sure how she dealt with Finn, Puck, Sam and the floppy haired bass dude whose name he always forgot so well since they were such a handful when they were together. Puck was basically a living breathing PR disaster – but then Lauren always knew how to deal with Puck.

Artie smiled and took Sam's hand that had been resting at his side, playing with his fingers and tracing small circles on his palms with his thumb. "I'm so proud of you."

Sam's hand squeezed Artie's. "Me too."

They murmured their 'I love you's and fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

The sun beat down on Artie's face as the angry flashes of hundreds of cameras burned his eyes. He was comforted by the feel of Sam's hand on his back as they posed, suited up and looking mighty fine, on the red carpet. They were shoved around by managers and other important, busy people with clipboards and headpieces. Artie wasn't a huge fan of awards shows. Luckily people cared more for actors than directors so Artie wasn't too much in the limelight, but his relationship with Sam Evans from Red and the Solo Cups kind of countered that and meant he had to sit through mindless, inane interviews in which they always felt the need to bring up his chair.

"Do you find it," the man said, giving an affected pause, trying to search for a word that shouldn't require that much thought, "_challenging_, doing your job in the condition you're in?"

"Not really, no," Artie smiled charmingly despite this being the fourth time someone had asked him that question in the last twenty minutes. "I mean – I'm a director not a cross country runner. It really doesn't make any difference," he joked dismissively.

The journalist nodded and moved on to Sam, asking him about gigs and upcoming albums.

"We played a show last night, actually," Sam said. "I still haven't quite recovered from it yet so I'm kind of hoping no one asks me any hard questions tonight."

The journalist laughed heartily.

"I'm just on arm candy duty tonight I think," Sam joked.

Artie swatted his arm. "He's lying," he grinned. "I wouldn't have even made it out of the limo without a breakdown if he hadn't been here. He's definitely better than just arm candy."

"Arm candy with benefits?" Sam mused and they both chortled.

They were ushered off to another interviewer. "So, up for best director this year?" she began dramatically. "How does it feel?"

"Terrible," Artie answered, deadpan. They all laughed then he gave a proper answer.

"And you two caused quite a scandal a couple of years back when the rumours came out that you were dating! Do you want to talk about that a bit?"

Sam and Artie looked at each other and laughed widely.

"We actually thought it was pretty funny," Sam grinned. "Because, I mean we moved out to LA together from Ohio… we'd been together since after we graduated high school."

"Yeah," Artie agreed. "It wasn't supposed to be a secret but suddenly when people starting knowing who we were… like when Red's second album was a big hit and I was working on _Transformers 4_… it was all… dramatic you know when candids were released of us on dates or whatever."

Sam chuckled. "No one told us it was meant to be a secret!"

"Well, you two are very cute together," gushed the interviewer.

They murmured their thankyous while grinning widely, not taking their eyes off each other. Sometimes you could really tell they were high school sweethearts.

"Any chance of a kiss for our cameras?"

Sam knelt down next to Artie and patted his cheek expectantly, and when Artie leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek Sam turned his head, took Artie's face in his hands and planted a loud smooch on his lips.

Eventually everyone was ushered inside. Artie's cast table was at the front so he wouldn't have to go through aisles of people if he won anything. His hands were shaking so he grabbed Sam's under the table as he talked to the cast, comforting the young woman who was up for best supporting actress, congratulating the composer on his best score nomination, calling for a group hands in to celebrate the nomination for best film. All the while Sam was beaming at him and it kept Artie grounded. He knew that even without all this he'd be so happy, because no matter where they would have been tonight Sam would have been there with his stupid heart-eyes, making Artie feel like the best person in the world. That was all he needed.

As he realised this, one set of nerves died down and another flared up as a decision concreted in his brain.

The awards started off slowly with awkward scripted comedy from the hosts and what seemed to be hours of endless clapping and smiling politely. Sam kept nudging him and pointing to people he recognised.

"Artie that's Steven Spielberg over there," Sam whispered, doing an excited dance. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw Harrison Ford. "Should I go over?" he asked Artie. "I really want to go over. Do you think he'd mind? I'd just ask him to father my children that's all."

Artie slapped him and laughed. "Sam he's like 80."

Sam stared on in earnest. "I can't hear you over the sound of how sexy he is."

Artie rolled his eyes and pulled Sam closer to him, entwining their fingers together again.

Their supporting actress took away her award but the composer missed out. It was only a matter of time before the awards for Best Director were announced.

Sam was helping Artie practise his disappointed-I-didn't-win-but-they-totally-deserved-it face up until the last moment.

"And the nominees are," Jude Law said dramatically. Artie suddenly became really nervous about how he'd greet Jude Law if he got up on that stage… and what if his arms shook too much for him to work his chair? And what if-

"For his work on the smash-hit sci-fi musical thriller, Artie Abrams!"

Artie knew there was a camera he was supposed to be looking at but he just looked at Sam and smiled and once again he felt calm. Sam kissed his cheek meriting an 'awww' from their table.

"And the Oscar goes to…"

And Artie hardly heard his name over the sound of Sam cheering. He stood up and did a huge fist pump, waving his arms in the air. He suddenly sat down very meekly because he remembered what a formal event he was at.

Artie was about to start rolling away and Sam knelt down to kiss his cheek. "You're amazing. I love you. You deserve it. Now go accept the fuck out of that award."

Jude Law was adjusting the mic stand down to Artie's height as he rolled up onto the stage (they'd included ramps this year for him how very thoughtful) and he presented the Oscar to Artie, going for a handshake but Artie pulled him down for a hug.

He rolled up to the mic, seeing the hundreds of people staring at him, feeling nervous. A combination of Sam's face in the crowd and the memory of how little attention he paid to other people's speeches calmed him down.

"Wow, he's super hot," Artie blurted, giving Jude Law a little wave. "Hey, Jude!" Artie chuckled at his own wit and heard Sam's laugh boom over the polite chuckles of the crowd.

Artie eventually pulled himself together, congratulated the other nominees, thanked his cast. "I couldn't have done this without you guys and your crazy talent," he gushed, smiling. Then he fingered the small box in his pocket, looked at Sam and went on. "I know this is way too personal and totally unprofessional and the orchestra's probably going to cut me off, but I know some of you have heard of my partner Sam over there."

There was a collective murmur and turning of heads in Sam's direction. "Wave, honey! Yeah - that's him isn't he gorgeous?"

A laugh rippled through the room. "Anyway, Sam, I need to thank you, most of all, for everything you've done for me, and the person you've helped me become. You are my world and I owe everything to you."

There was a soft 'aww' from the crowd.

"So… this _isn't_ the happiest day of my life. But, Sam, if you say yes to this… it'll mean that every day from now on is the happiest because I'll be spending all of them with you." Artie took a deep breath. "So I wanted to ask you, in front of all these people who probably don't care very much and just want to get to an after party and get their drink on-"

The crowd laughed sheepishly.

"Sam Evans, will you marry me?"

All the heads in the room turn to Sam again.

He was beaming at Artie, a tear or two on his face. There was a heavy silence waiting for his answer.

He scoffed. "No."

The crowd gasped and Artie's heart stopped for a second.

But then Sam was yelling, "I'M JOKING, GOD! OF COURSE I'LL MARRY YOU, YOU IDIOT."

And Artie wheeled off the stage to applause and met Sam at the edge of the ramp and the ceremony goes on but the cameras are flashing at the two of them in their corner.

"I love you," Artie said.

"I know," Sam replied, before turning around and giving a huge thumbs up to Harrison Ford who gave him a thumbs up back and the two men, despite being nearly in their thirties, squealed.

When they got back to their table Artie pulled the box out of his pocket, placing the ring on Sam's finger and kissing his hand. He spent the rest of the night with his head on Sam's shoulder, thinking of how amazing the last nine years had been, and dreaming of how it could only get better in the future.

* * *

_So that's it for Sartie week! Thanks so much for all your kind words about these fics and if this isn't enough Sartie for you - never fear! I have two multichap Sartie fics planned out so y'all will be hearing from me very soon._

_May the force be with you!_

_Fi_


End file.
